Nor yet did golden fires the fun adorn,
Or borrow'd luftre filver Cynthia's horn;
Nor yet
had Time commiffion to begin,
Or fate the many twisted web to fpin;
When all the heavenly hoft affembled came
To view the world yet refting on its frame;
Eager they prefs, to see the fire dismiss,
And roll the globe along the vaft abyfs.

When deep revolving thoughts the god retain,
Which for a space fufpend the promis'd fcene,
Once more his eyes on Time intentive look,
Again infpect Fate's univerfal book.

Abroad the wondrous volume he displays,
And prefent views the deeds of future days.

A beauteous fcene adorns the foremost page,
Where Nature's bloom presents the golden age.
The golden leaf to filver foon refigns,

And fair the fheet, but yet more faintly, fhines.
Of bafer brafs, the next denotes the times.
An impious page deform'd with deadly crimes.
The fourth yet wears a worse and browner face,
And adds to gloomy days an iron race.

He turns the book, and every age reviews,
Then all the kingly line his eye pursues:
The first of men, and lords of earth design'd,
Who under him fhould govern human-kind.
Of future heroes, there, the lives he reads,
In fearch of glory spent, and godlike deeds;
Who empires found, and goodly cities build,
And favage men compel to leave the field.

All

All this he faw, and all he faw approv'd;
When lo! but thence a narrow space remov'd,
And hungry Time has all the scene defac'd,
The kings deftroy'd, and laid the kingdoms wafte
Together all in common ruins lie,

And but anon and ev'n the ruins die.

Th' Almighty, inly touch'd, compaffion found,
To fee great actions in oblivion drown'd ;
And forward fearch'd the roll, to find if Fate
Had no referve to fpare the good and great.
Bright in his view the Trojan heroes shine,
And Ilian structures rais'd by hands divine.;
But Ilium foon in native duft is laid,
And all her boasted pile a ruin made :
Nor great Æneas can her fall withstand,
But flies, to fave his gods, to foreign land.
The Roman race fucceed the Dardan ftate,
And firft, and fecond Cæfar, godlike great.
Still on to after-days his eyes descend,
And rifing heroes ftill the fearch attend.
Proceeding thus, he many empires pafs'd;
When fair Britannia fix'd his fight at laft.

Above the waves fhe lifts her filver head,
And looks a Venus born from Ocean's bed.
For rolling years, her happy fortunes finile,
And fates propitious bless the beauteous isle;
To worlds remote fhe wide extends her reign,
And wields the trident of the stormy main.
Thus on the base of empire firm she stands,
While bright Eliza rules the willing lands.

But foon a lowering sky comes on apace,
And fate revers'd fhews an ill-omen'd face.
The void of heaven a gloomy horror fills;
And cloudy veils involve her fhining hills;
Of greatnefs pafs'd no footsteps fhe retains,
Sunk in a series of inglorious reigns.

She feels the change, and deep regrets the shame
Of honours loft, and her diminish'd name :
Confcious, the feeks from day to fhrowd her head,
And glad would shrink beneath her oozy bed.
Thus far, the facred leaves Britannia's woes
In fhady draughts and dufky lines difclofe.
Th' enfuing fcene revolves a martial age,
And ardent colours gild the glowing page.
Behold! of radiant light an orb arife,
Which, kindling day, reftores the darken'd skies:
And fee! on feas the beamy ball defcends,
And now its courfe to fair Britannia bends :
Along the foamy main the billows bear
The floating fire, and waft the shining sphere.
Hail, happy omen! Hail, aufpicious fight!
Thou glorious guide to yet a greater light.
For fee a prince, whom dazzling arms array,
Pursuing closely, plows the watery way,
Tracing the glory through the flaming fea.

Britannia, rife; awake, O fairest isle,
From iron fleep; again thy fortunes smile.
Once more look up, the mighty man behold,
Whose reign renews the former age of gold.

The

The Fates at length the blissful web have spun,
And bid it round in endless circles run.
Again Thall distant lands confess thy sway,
Again the watery world thy rule obey;
Again thy martial fons shall thirst for fame,
And win in foreign fields a deathless name;
For William's genius every foul inspires,
And warms the frozen youth with warlike fires.
Already, fee, the hostile troops retreat,
And feem forewarn'd of their impending fate.
Already routed foes his fury feel,

And fly the force of his unerring fteel.

The haughty Gaul, who well, till now, might boast
A matchlefs fword and unrefifted hoft,
At his foreseen approach the field forfakes;
His cities tremble, and his empire shakes.
His towering enfigns long had aw'd the plain,
And fleets audaciously ufurp'd the main ;
A gathering ftorm he feem'd, which from afar
Teem'd with a deluge of destructive war,
Till William's ftronger genius foar'd above,
And down the skies the daring tempeft drove.
So from the radiant fun retires the night,

And western clouds fhot through with orient light.
So when th' affuming god, whom storms obey,
To all the warring winds at once gives way,
The frantic brethren ravage all around,

And rocks, and woods, and fhores, their rage refound;
Incumbent o'er the main, at length they sweep
The liquid plains, and raise the peaceful deep.

But when fuperior Neptune leaves his bed,

His trident shakes, and fhews his awful head;
The madding winds are hush'd, the tempefts cease,
And every rolling furge refides in peace.

And now the facred leaf a landskip wears,
Where, heaven ferene, and air unmov'd appears.
The rofe and lily paint the verdant plains,
And palm and olive shade the sylvan fcenes.
The peaceful Thames beneath his banks abides,
And foft, and still, the filver surface glides.
The Zephyrs fan the fields, the whispering breeze
With fragrant breath remurmurs through the trees.
The warbling birds, applauding new-born light,
In wanton measures wing their airy flight.
Above the floods the finny race repair,
And bound aloft, and bafk in upper air;
They gild their fcaly backs in Phoebus' beams,
And scorn to fkim the level of the ftreams.
Whole Nature wears a gay and joyous face,
And blooms and ripens with the fruits of peace.
No more the labouring hind regrets his toil,
But chearfully manures the grateful foil;
Secure the glebe a plenteous crop will yield,
And golden Ceres grace the waving field.
Th' adventurous man, who durft the deep explore,
Oppofe the winds, and tempt the shelfy fhore,
Beneath his roof now taftes unbroken reft,
Enough with native wealth and plenty bleft.

No more the forward youth purfues alarm's, Nor leaves the facred arts for stubborn arma.